


Yes, Ambassador

by Meraxa



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Comedy, Diplomacy, Gen, Politics, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraxa/pseuds/Meraxa
Summary: At the dawn of the 24th century, Federation diplomat Veran finds himself appointed to the most paradoxical posting imaginable - the Federation Ambassador to Earth.  Stuck coming to terms with this seemingly redundant role, Veran nevertheless aspires to do the best he can with what little there is to do, gaining a better understanding of the various, curious ways in which one of the galaxy's preeminent nations functions in the process.





	Yes, Ambassador

I looked up from interface in front of me for but a moment, and found before me a very familiar face, looking quite puzzled, if not distressed, having just stepped in through the nearby arch.  
"Veran, old friend," I greeted him, gesturing to a nearby seat. Leather-bound armchair, a norm in human interior design; fitting against the San Francisco backdrop, with decided view of Starfleet Headquarters proper. As the Caitian shifted across to the seat quietly, I watched him carefully. When at last he was sat, and still said nothing, I lowered the pen that had rested in my other hand, briefly rubbed the freed fingers over my spots, and then - quite loudly - asked Veran, "What's wrong?"  
There was a long breath drawn in, that rustled his black fur, pocked with grey and white spots.  
"Veran!" I risked being heard all the way across the bay, if it meant he might hear me. By the distant blinking he made, I think it was only just.  
Still, shaking off at least some of his stupor, the Caitian looked to me, and briefly bowed his head in apology. "My apologies, Curzon. I just... I am having to process a great deal, and I wasn't sure who else to turn to."  
"You do seem to have had quite a shock," I conceded. "Tell me, what has happened?"

Veran remained tense, hands clutched at his knees and threatening to tear the rather generously sized robes of red and silver that fell about his person. "I'm doomed, Curzon."  
"Doomed?" I repeated, caught somewhere between incredulity, and concern. "That's rather harsh language... has someone threatened you?"  
"No." Veran answered simply.  
"Have you been given a prognosis of some kind?"  
"No."  
I furrowed my brow, and decided to test something. "Have you remembered to take your medicine so as to unlock your psychic potential?"  
"No." Veran stopped after that, paused, and then wondered, "Should I have?"  
At that, I got up from my seat, walked around my desk and past the small library I kept in the corner, taking up the seat beside Veran. I reached for his hand, holding it with both of mine, trying to comfort. "Veran, this is serious. Whatever is going on, you're completely out of it. Now, tell me, why are you 'doomed'?"

"I've been offered a promotion."

Now I had to blink. "A promotion? And this... dooms you?"  
"Absolutely." Veran answered with such speed and certainty as to utterly throw me off.  
"...I realise I'm 'merely' a naturalised citizen, so perhaps there is some Earth or Federation nuance I'm missing here, but isn't a promotion traditionally a... good thing?" I questioned, turning my head every few seconds as I tried to make sense of it all.  
"Not in this instance, no." Veran seemed to regain some sense of himself - certainly, more syllables. He rustled, explaining, "this promotion is the death sentence. Politically speaking, I mean. They've... they've given me the worst posting of all, Curzon."  
I took a moment to take that in, before gently reminding him, "you're speaking to someone who's served as an Ambassador in negotiations with the Klingon Empire."

"I know, and this is far worse than that!" Veran escalated his hands in a dramatic protest. "They've made me... they've made me... the Ambassador to Earth!"

I couldn't hide my confusion at all any longer. "I'm sorry but... you've joined another diplomatic corps?"  
"Wouldn't think of it!" Veran protested even more dramatically, on the verge of roaring.  
"Then how exactly can you be an Ambassador to Earth?" I asked him, absolutely bewildered by the notion. "Earth hardly has need of an Ambassador to itself. And if you're not acting in the service of even one of the member states' diplomatic corps, then who are you supposed to represent?"  
"Ah, there it is, there's the confusion." Veran held a single, sharply clawed finger in my direction. "Despite what it may seem to outsiders, Earth is not itself the Federation. Earth is but one of its many, many member states. One of the founding states, and host to the political capital of the Federation, but it is still a separate nation state within the Federation. And as such, just as there is a Federation Ambassador to Vulcan, and an Ambassador to Andoria, and ambassadors for all the other nation states, communicating the desires and intentions between the Federal and member governments, engineering support for the workings of this great union... there is an Ambassador to Earth." He shook his finger as if to strike each syllable.

"...Seems a bit superfluous, to be quite frank." I admitted, fiddling with my right ear lobe. "But still, alright, they've given you a high ranking posting. Ambassador to a member state of the Federation should be an honour, no?"  
"Not when it's as superfluous as this is." Veran pushed himself up from the seat, taking a look around my arranged but deliberately just-shy-of-clean abode, looking very ready to make a point. "When was the last time you were in Paris, Curzon?"  
"Last month, actually." I said, amused as I recalled the memory. "I was supposed to be updating the President on how well the Khitomer Accords were holding, as we finish our first full year in the 24th century. An erstwhile encounter with the Prime Minister of Earth ended up making it a bit of a fun night though, I must say, given she was riding the enthusiasm of her election success."

"Then you should understand my problem all too plainly." Veran paced around the room, at which I noticed he was cutting across the carpet barefoot. I released a polite but regretful sigh, allowing the Caitian to continue. "That you should so easily encounter the Earth Prime Minister is because of the simple fact that the Prime Minister's residence is within a short walking distance of the President's. It is in fact a shorter distance between the two than it would be between me and either of them!"  
That did give me pause and a murmur, finger over my lip.  
"So what do I do then, Curzon?" Veran turned to me then, laying his hands upon my shoulder, pleading quite sincerely. "What do I do?"  
"...prop your feet up and enjoy an early retirement?" I suggested, mostly as a joke, but Veran recoiled as if I had slashed at his face. I threw up my hands. "Well what do you want to me say? I know you won't have denied it."

Veran whipped his head about, narrowing amber eyes on me. "How do you guess that?"  
"Am I wrong?" I said quite simply, and on Veran's silent shrink, I smirked a bit. "I know you all too well Veran. Ever since you were an assistant to me on the Korvat mission, you've been eager to please, and eager to rise. You'd never have the heart to say no to a posting like this, even if it was this posting."  
At that, Veran straightened out somewhat, trading much of his anxiety for a more calculated trepidation. "I suppose you are right... it's just... I wasn't that way because I wanted the power or prestige for its own sake. I wanted to prove what I was capable of, so I could do what I was meant to."  
"That being?" I asked, willing to entertain this a moment.  
"That for which this Federation was built." Veran said, stopping at the window to stare out across the waters of the bay. At Starfleet Headquarters, nestled in its comfortable corner. "I wasn't made for Starfleet. I couldn't be the one discovering new worlds, new life, and new civilisations. But I could engage with them. Bring them to the table. Foster a common unity that might someday bring all of us together in a greater whole." He sighed, shook his head, and hunched over, looking at his own feet. "Exactly what does one need to convince Earth of anyway? And if it must be asked, would the President not be prepared for a light jog?"

There was a long pause; disappointingly so to Veran, who stepped back from the window, and reclaimed the leather armchair for his seat.  
"Would you like some tea?" I asked suddenly, to which Veran nodded. I got up, went briefly to my desk, and held my finger to a small terminal embedded in the ebony frame. I stopped to ask, "Any particular blend?"  
"I've acquired a taste for Darjeeling." Veran admitted, and I took pity upon the Caitain, but acquiesced all the same. Once the replicator pad upon the desk had formed the two drinks - admittedly taking as long as a regular brew would have, without the full enclosure - I returned to the seats, and extended Veran's drink to him. He took it, drank eagerly, and then released a happier sound, ruffling his fur. "Thank you."  
"The least I could do." I answered, taking a few sips myself. "So, you have accepted the role in full?"  
There was a nod.  
"Then it would seem to me, my good friend, there is little that you can do, but to do it." I told him, and then took an extended sample of my drink.

"But what is there to even do in such a post?" There came the inevitable question, to which I shrugged.  
"Find out?" I suggested once I had slipped the synthesised china from my lip, and placed it down on a nearby table. "As they say, you'll have to boldly go where no-one has gone before."  
I held a wry grin on my face for several moments, before we both broke out into a good laughter.  
"Fine." Veran said, substantially relaxed, fur trimming down in size. "But I'll hold you responsible if I somehow start a war."  
I shrugged again, keeping a devilish smile. "Yes, Ambassador."

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of relief fic to go through with the current state of things, amidst other literary projects I have. Updates likely irregular as a result, but I do want to get a few stories out.


End file.
